


i have loved the stars

by cloverdale



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 14:51:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13483797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloverdale/pseuds/cloverdale
Summary: keith is back.this is was lance wanted, wasn’t it? from the moment keith had walked away.it was.but he hadn’t wanted it to happen like this.[lowercase intentional]





	i have loved the stars

 

though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light

i have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night

 

— sarah williams, the old astronomer

 

* * *

  
_victory or death. knowledge or death._

it all leaves a bitter taste in lance’s mouth.

he knows it is galran tradition. he knows because of the way keith treats the expression as if it were sacred. he has always wanted something like this, something he is meant to be a part of, something that owns him. in a way, he knows keith is happy he discovered his galran blood. it gives him something to be a part of. something bigger than himself, a tradition passed on by his mother.

that’d never really happened to him, on earth.

he’d never fit in at the garrison, but lance knows he can’t talk. back then, he’d butt heads with the guy as much as he could.

he’d never really fit in with their team, even with shiro. things are different then they had been, when shiro was professor shirogane and keith was cadet kogane. shiro can’t be a big brother anymore, not like he used to.

they are at war.

lance knows several truths about keith.

he is smart, but he is also impulsive, and the two don’t mix well in him. the impulsive side almost always wins.

all his life, people have walked away, turned him aside. they hadn’t taken him seriously when he’d first arrived at the garrison. shiro was the only one who had ever taken him seriously, and even he had left eventually. first, to achieve a dream all the paladins had shared, the dream of walking with the stars, and then lost, because the universe was adamant no one could remain in keith’s life for long.

the mission comes first. it’s why he understood the blade of marmora so well. why he wasn’t angry with them afterwards for beating him half to death. it’s why he thinks the blade of marmora is where he belongs.

lance wants him back.

keith matters.

keith is more than a knight on a chessboard. failure does not mean death. failure is not a burden for him solely to bear.

they are a team.

they are the paladins of voltron, and they will have victory, but they will also have each other.

keith needs to now that he matters.

how much he matters, to shiro, to lance.

keith is back.

this is was lance wanted, wasn’t it? from the moment keith had walked away.

it was.

but he hadn’t wanted it to happen like this.

he wants to go back, to the way it had been before. hands held under the table in the mess hall. late nights, swaddled together in blankets, watching any movies from earth they could get their hands on. a kiss on the forehead or cheek or shoulder after missions, when no one was looking.

since he left, they the only time he’d talked to keith were short bursts of comms, when they knew the signal was safe. an occasional picture, beamed from across the stars.

something in his chest has ached since keith turned away.

he reaches out to open keith’s door like this isn’t the fifth time he’s tried to, and each time turned away

the last two times, his hands had been sweaty.

this time, they are shaking. _huh,_ he thinks. _that’s new._

he knows he is only delaying himself even further.

he pushes the button, and keith’s door clicks opens. lance can tell keith has been waiting for him.

he’s sitting on his bed, and his hair is still grimy, his messy bangs are sticking to his forehead. his pale skin shines with sweat, and he has changed into the blue pajamas that came with the castle. lance’s pajamas. his eyes, his violently purple galran eyes, are staring at lance with something in them akin to defeat.

that’s wrong. there is something so wrong about seeing something other than poorly concealed affection in his eyes.

but why would he be happy? matt showed him the footage of keith in the starfighter. he heard the resolution in his voice. keith has just tried to sacrifice himself. the low after the high, the mundanity one must return to after the stakes and adrenaline of battle.

he has never seen keith so worn by battle. it hurts him to see keith this way.

but he cannot help the way his face falls when he notices that fondness is gone.

the door shuts behind them, and neither of them speak. lance doesn’t know what to say. he had a whole speech planned out in his head, but now that he’s in front of keith, his first instinct is to yell at keith and sob into his shoulder and hug him as tight as he can. he cannot decide which he’d rather do more, so he stands there, staring.

it feels like yesterday they were saying goodbye. it feels like he hasn’t seen him in an eternity.

keith’s hand is clenched around his knife, his knuckles white. his holds it out between them, and it begins to glow before settling into a long curved blade. he runs a pale finger of the dull edge of his mother’s sword, light flashing in his face as he stares at his reflection.

_“honor this blade, for this weapon is your life. and with your life you will serve the blade, finding truth in lies, victory in the face of opposition, knowledge from ignorance. your life is a gift, and you will use to fulfill the blade until the end of your days.”_

lance clenches his jaw.

keith says, “they were a religion, first. in the old days, before the war.” lance can’t tell if keith has a point. it doesn’t feel like he does. it feels like he’s just saying things to fill his mouth with words.

“the galran had religion?” his throat sticks, and his voice wavers.

keith answer. “no deities, though. they honor their ancestors.”

lance opens his mouth, but no words come. he came here to say something, something he doesn’t want to say. keith doesn’t want to hear them.

he walks towards keith’s bed, pulling his shoes off with his feet as he goes. he crawls to keith’s side carefully, quietly. he doesn’t know why. maybe he’s worried he’ll spook keith off.

no, that’s not why.

keith never runs away, he looks everything that’s ever faced him straight in the eye. but that’s not the problem, is it? it’s how keith hides his heart. he’s worried keith’s walls will come up, the ones it took so long to bring down.

keith’s sword lays across his lap, and laced carefully lifts it with one finger so he can slide under it to keith’s side. keith is warm, and he’s wearing lance’s pajamas. the alcoves where their beds are shaded, but the blade across their laps bathes them in purple light.

lance’s heart is like a hummingbird trapped in his rib cage. he opens his mouth to speak, but at first the words don’t come.

“keith,” lance says softly.

keith turns to look at him. “Yeah?”

lance draws a shuddering breath. “matt says… he says it was you in that fighter.”

he already knows. but he needs to hear it from him. he needs to hear the words from keith’s lips.

“it was.” his face is unreadable.

there is a hollow place in lance’s chest where something warm once lived.

he’d had a vague suspicion during the fight, a brief though, a _hey, that pilot flies like keith_. no one flies like keith. but he hadn’t thought it was actually him. hoped it wasn’t him.

lance at a loss for words, for what seems like the first time in his life. he’s good with words. he’s good with people. he has no idea what he should say. it feels like everything that comes to mind would only make things worse.

that’s not true.

the first time he was without words was the day keith left. he didn’t want him to leave, but he had no idea to stop him from going. when keith did things, he was also so sure. he didn’t question what he did. as soon as a thought entered his mind, he went through with it.

that was why he was here, wasn’t it?

“you could’ve died.”

“we were running out of options.”

“you could’ve _died_.”

their voices are whispered in the shadows, their words forced and shaky.

“lance,” keith says, and his voice is like his blade. quiet and graceful, sharp and deadly. “we’re at war. we could die at any minute.”

“in battle,” lance protests. “protecting voltron. not on a fucking suicide run.”  
keith doesn’t say anything.

“what did you think would happen? what did you think would happen when you hit that shield? our strongest cannons couldn’t penetrate those shields, and you were just going to throw yourself at it?”

when keith doesn’t answer, lance’s heart sinks. he wasn’t supposed to get angry. none of this was keith’s fault. he wasn’t supposed to yell.

supposed to.

what was he supposed to do? he has no idea.

he has no idea what he’s doing.

this is something he’d never had to do before. this isn’t something anyone’s ever taught him.

why on earth would someone teach him this? why would anyone have reason to believe lance would experience battles and injuries and scars on his heart and mind at seventeen years old?

he feels so much, but he has no words to say it. all he knows is that he wants keith. he wants keith alive, at his side, warm and laughing and smiling.

what is he supposed to say?

lance doesn’t know, and lance hates himself for it.

but why does he hate himself?

why should he know what he’s doing?

he’s a boy.

he’s just a seventeen-year-old boy from a little island on a little primitive water-filled world at the outer edge of the known universe, fighting a war so much bigger than himself, a war whose first act was fought before humanity was even dreamed of. he is so far away from home, from the pools he swam in, from the ocean he played with his nieces and nephews in, from people who spoke his language.

he’s just a boy from cuba.

“keith,” he says, and he has no idea what his voice sounds like. he has no idea what he’s feeling. is he scared? angry? caring? “i want you alive.”

“i know,” keith says. “but this is bigger than us.”

“voltron is hope,” lance says, “but without you, is there is no voltron. you’re a blade, sure, but you’re also a paladin. we fight, but we’re also the face of this war. we need you.”

keith looks up at him, and his eyes are glowing, reflecting the light of the blade. his eyes are a constant reminder of how special he is. he has blood from beyond earth.

a couple months ago, lance wouldn’t have taken someone seriously if they said alien existed, and that the boy he had been obsessed with those first few years at the garrison was one of them.

“they want the mission to be all that matters, something you should be willing to give your life for. and i know you would. your stubborn ass is why you got so far in the marmora trials, but knowledge and death aren’t the only options. you’re not only a cog in the machine. you’re a paladin. you’re our friend.

lance stares forcefully at the floor, but he thinks keith is watching him. lance’s heart is beating nervously.

he has looked into the eyes of death, and even then he was not so scared.

“what’s a paladin without a lion?” keith asks.

“be the black paladin again,” lance says, and his voice is firm. somehow, he knows the black lion will take keith back. he knew her reluctance to take shiro back when he returned. some part of him tells him this is true, the part of him that was touched the day he tried to be her pilot.

“shiro…”

“then take the red lion,” lance says. the red lion still adores keith, lance is sure that’s why the red lion adores him. _volatile, temperamental, relies more on instinct that skill._ that’s who allura sad the red paladin was. that has never been lance. but that _is_ keith, has been keith, since the day lance met him. “i’ll be  your co-pilot.”

“you’ll be my backseat driver.”

lance laughs. “come back,” lance says slowly.

“lance,” keith says, before slowly trailing off. lance’s heart skips a beat, even now, when keith says his name. “you know i’ll always do what i have to do.”

“i want to go home with you, someday,” lance says.

keith doesn’t reply for a moment. “i miss this place,” he says, instead of answering.

lance is painfully aware both of them might not make it home. but he can hope. he can dream,  dream of going home, dream of falling in love. (he’s already halfway there.)

“i miss you,” lance says. he looks over at keith, and he is starting at him will all the intensity of his glowing purple eyes. he is so close, and his skin is so warm.

“me too.”

lance breathes deeply, his head tilting to rest of keith’s shoulder.

“come home.”

lance says the words easily, without thought, but the more time passes the more they make him ache. this is home now, isn’t it? cuba will always have a place in his heart. but cuba, the atlantic ocean, _earth_ , they’re all so far away.

the paladins are his family now. they are a family with a member missing.

“maybe,” keith says.

maybe keith will return, and when he does lance knows he will not plan, that a fire will light in his eyes that no one can extinguish.

but for now lance just pushes the sword off to the side, keith taking it and placing it on his pillow. lance leans his head and buries his keith’s shoulder, and he is warm and smells like the detergent lance bought from the earth store at the space mall.

keith’s fingers run through lance’s hair, and he feels keith’s lips slowly press a kiss on his forehead. lance lifts his head and presses a kiss to keith’s shoulder before hearing his head back down.

he feels keith lowering his head to lean on lance’s.

maybe, keith will return to the castle.

maybe, someday, they will return to earth together.

but for now, they sit together, in silence.

**Author's Note:**

> hey! thanks for reading. i'm not sure what i feel about this fic, but i hope you enjoyed! i'm sorry it's written in all lowercase, i wrote it on my phone....maybe someday i'll fix it.
> 
> you can find me on tumblr @broqanes.


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